Where the Road Ends
by Eddifer
Summary: You can't always see where the road ends, but you can always say where it began...for you.


A broken pencil, a broken pen, and a ripped notebook lay in Luke Snyder's lap.

That all would have been fine by him, but then, there was the broken heart in his chest that felt very much like his destroyed notebook.

Heavy and useless.

All of these under the stunning lucid sky of Central Park. Where snow covered every corner and the trees rose up into the sky, white covering their branches. It almost seemed like they were reaching towards the bright buildings that loomed over the park, higher than Luke could ever even hope to reach.

There were lovers and friends who roamed through the park continually, cuddled close and clothed with winter jackets and earmuffs.

And everything; the trees standing close to each other, the lively people, and the lights that blinked brilliantly, made Luke feel so alone.

All he wanted to do was write away his contempt.

Write and forget everything.

But with his broken pen and broken heart, he found it near impossible.

So he continued to remember.

And he had truly never felt lonelier or more helpless in his life.

* * *

Noah Mayer had never felt more alive in his life.

In retrospect, he'd lost so much weight that he was sure a strong gust of wind could easily blow him away. His fingernails were thin and brittle with fraying cuticles, and he was so tired that he felt ready to collapse any second.

But none of that mattered.

With his fuzzy hat snug over his head, and the smell of hot dogs and white snow christening the air, he inhaled deeply.

Inhaled life.

Inhaled living.

And found that he craved it more than he could describe.

He walked down the street, bright lights looming over him and the slight wind causing his cheeks to lose feeling.

Occasionally, people hurrying past would bump into him, barely giving a grunt as an apology. Sometimes, they shoved him hard, hard enough to leave a bruise.

Noah said, "Excuse me," every time.

Right now, nothing could bring him down.

And as he weaved his way into Central Park, crunching heartily in piles of snow, he found that he felt sorry for anyone who didn't know this feeling; this love for life and this eagerness to wake up every morning, even if it was with aching bones and a dash to the bathroom.

He had still never felt more alive.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Luke ran his fingers over the bench, felt the hardness of it through the fabric of his gloves; touched the snow that clung to it and grabbed it, feeling the wetness soak through his glove and stain his fingers.

It was cold.

Freezing even, but he'd expected that.

He shook his hand free of the snow, and sighed as the ice still stung his fingers.

New Year's Eve in Central Park and he was torturing himself using snow.

True; his deadline was in a month, and there was nothing more inspirational than a night in Central Park, watching people mingle and laugh under the clear sky.

But he couldn't concentrate on them.

Instead, he shut his eyes tight and thought of the soft, flowing voice that always filled his dreams. He thought of bright eyes and gentle fingers that knew every crevice of his body, all the dips and dives and curves and angles.

And he thought of how he couldn't call them _his_ anymore.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Central Park was Noah's favorite part of New York City. For him, it was the part that was always vivacious, no matter how many people were there, and what time or season it was.

On this particular New Year's Eve, many couples roamed in and out of the park, dressed in fashionable jackets and furry scarves of assorted colors. There were a few loners who walked with their heads held high and hands shoved in their pockets.

No matter who passed him, Noah smiled.

And no matter what, they all smiled back.

Now, Noah stopped walking and looked up at the sky.

And he found himself smiling at absolutely nothing.

Even when thoughts of thick medicine, the orange bracelet that branded his wrist, and his tear-stained reflection in the mirror crossed the borders of his mind, he continued to smile like an idiot.

At absolutely nothing at all.

His gaze drifted back down, and fell across the park, where the bench was.

The bench was nearly empty, aside from a man who had his eyes shut tight, and the journal that was beside him.

And, feeling like there was a magnet between them, Noah began moving in the man's direction.

The closer he got, the more his curiosity grew.

There was an immense difference between the man on that bench, and the people that continually passed him. For one, everyone else was moving, or at least standing. And everyone else at least had their eyes open.

And...everyone else had a different aura from the man.

The man's aura was...calm; calm and slightly sad, compared to the liveliness that surrounded him. And Noah couldn't help but wonder.

He wondered why the journal lay ripped and abandoned beside the man. He wondered why the man was alone and seemingly dreaming. He wondered what the man saw when he closed his eyes, if it was anything like what Noah saw. And he wondered what brought the man here in the first place.

At any other point in his life, he wouldn't have bothered. Would have turned around when he was half-way there. But if Noah had learned anything over the past few years, it was that life was short.

So very, very short.

***********************************************************************************************************************

This wasn't good at all.

Luke was back there, back to when everything fell apart, everything he'd work so hard to create. It was going through his head like a screenplay. He remembered the shock and heartache, and then, yelling, shouting, and tears that fell like rivers down his face.

And then later, when all the tears and yelling had stopped and all was said and done…he'd left.

He'd left without another word.

He couldn't go back there to that time, because that meant he'd see himself leaving, over and over again. And then he could only wonder what would have happened if he _hadn't _left. What would have happened if he'd stayed and talked things through?

Where would he be right now?

He hated thinking about it. But for whatever reason, he couldn't stop rewinding it in his mind, repeatedly.

Three times became four, four became seven, and if he wasn't going crazy already…

"Hey."

A voice interrupted his thoughts, and his eyes shot open. A man stood in front of him with a smile on his face, a hat over his head, and his eyes twinkling in the night.

"Hey…" Luke said it cautiously while his hand wormed into his pocket, clutching his cell phone tightly.

"What are you doing?" the man asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm sitting."

"Why are you by yourself?"

Luke inhaled deeply. "Why are _you_?" He countered.

The man looked shocked for a second, before he began laughing. "Touché."

Their eyes met, and the man's eyes continued to twinkle, continued to hypnotize Luke in the joy that laid there.

"Why did you rip your notebook?"

Luke clenched his jaw. "That's none of your business."

"True, but I guess it just didn't make sense to me."

Luke said nothing; let his gaze fall to the ripped notebook, frays of paper lying atop it.

"Lots of things don't make sense to me…" the man continued, his voice soft and quiet.

"Shocker," Luke muttered.

The man must have heard him, because he laughed again, loud enough to attract the attention of the people surrounding them.

Luke felt a blush warm his face and he looked down heatedly.

The man's laughter finally died, and he sat next to Luke on the bench. "You're just a ball of joy, aren't you?"

Luke sighed, and bit his lip before glancing at the man. "What do you want?"

The man smiled sadly, and then stared forward. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Nothing…?" Luke said hesitantly.

"Nothing at all." He stretched his arms and then let them fall behind his neck. "Actually…"

"What?" Luke said.

"I'd like to know your name, if that's possible." The man quirked an eyebrow, moved a little closer.

"My…_name_?"

"You _do _have one, don't you?" The eyes were twinkling again.

"That's not it, just…" Luke drummed his fingers on the bench, stared in those starry eyes once again. "It's Luke. Luke Snyder."

A smile drifted on the man's face, and he glanced at the ripped notebook lying between them. "Luke Snyder, huh? Do you write, Luke?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Your name…it sounds like the name of a writer."

"It-it does?"

"Yeah. You wanna know what I think?" The man leaned towards Luke, his lips quirked in a smile. Luke said nothing. "I think that someday…_everyone's_ gonna know your name."

"…You haven't even read any of—"

"—I don't have to. Sometimes you can just tell." He leaned back, tilted his head to the side. "It's in your eyes."

"What is?"

"Everything…how much you love writing, and…" He pointed his chin at the notebook. "How much you hate that you _can't_."

Luke's mouth dropped open. It was true; he'd always worn his heart on his sleeve. Whatever he was feeling showed in his face, in his eyes, and in his actions. It had always made lying difficult for him. Somehow, he always got caught.

But he'd never once in his life, been read so easily; especially by a complete stranger.

It was terrifying.

Not to mention unraveling.

The man took advantage of Luke's stunned silence and leaned forward again, his hand outstretched.

"Noah Mayer," he said.

His eyes continued to twinkle.

* * *

Noah's first kiss had been with a girl.

They were both thirteen at the time; shy and awkward with all the uncertainties of puberty. She'd had braces and an extreme overbite, while Noah suffered from being gangly and nervous.

At first, it was painful because their teeth kept clanging, and the girl's braces occasionally scratched Noah's lips; she kissed like a fish too, on top of everything else. Afterwords, Noah had stared at her—_really_ stared at her. He took in her messy bangs, wide doe-like eyes, and the blush that splashed her pale complexion with color. He'd stared at her until he grew cross-eyed, and then--when panic struck--he hurriedly gave a lame excuse and dashed home; his chest heavy with remorse.

It hadn't felt right.

The kissing, the discomfited touching, and then the vulnerable look in her eyes afterwords; all of it made him feel…guilty.

And it simply hadn't felt right. Not then, and not even in the present, as Noah flashed through the memory.

But right now, staring at Luke Snyder—their hands in a tight grasp—Noah was shocked by how _right_ it all felt; sitting beside the man and breathing the same air, while the man's gloved hand exchanged warmth into Noah's naked one.

It was a nice feeling; this warmth that spread from Noah's fingertips and into his bloodstream, heating his insides _and _his senses. He hadn't felt like this in a while. And as he took in Luke's messy blond hair, the bangs that fell over his wide doe-like eyes, and the slight cleft in his chin, Noah was once again shocked by how _right_ it all felt. Even as Noah's sleeve slid up, and revealed the orange bracelet on his wrist, Noah could only look at Luke.

He couldn't stop staring at him.

Finally, Luke tentatively pulled his hand away and placed it in his lap. Noah pulled his sleeve back down; hid the bracelet.

The warmth remained.

***********************************************************************************************************************

It was snowing now. Light little flakes disappeared as soon as they touched the ground. There seemed to be so many of them, everywhere Luke turned. And Luke was trying hard to ignore them; the way they seemed so weak and fragile, yet shimmered in all their glory, and the way they gave the park an almost heavenly ambiance. Then, there was the way the flakes fell around Noah, surrounding him in white specks of light.

It was all so hard to ignore.

_He _was so hard to ignore. And Luke couldn't stop staring at him.

Up close, the strange man was undeniably gorgeous, with his twinkling eyes that held so much depth and smooth skin that held no wrinkles. There was an aura about him, something that was energetic and bursting with life, but only subtly.

All of that made him difficult to ignore. That and how he wouldn't stop staring at Luke either. They'd sat in silence for a minute now—quiet chatter and murmurs filling the air around them—and the man had only watched Luke carefully. And it was making Luke slightly nervous.

He shuffled and glanced down. "Why are you here?"

Noah looked shocked for a second. "Why am I…? Well, about a month ago, I—"

"—no, I mean…why are you _here_? Sitting next to me?"

Noah's face brightened and he let out a chuckle. "Is there something _else _I should be doing?"

"That's what I'm trying to ask _you_."

Noah laughed and looked straight ahead again; off into the distance at something Luke couldn't quite see. "No…there's nothing else I'd rather be doing right now."

Luke's eyes widened, and after a moment, Noah turned to face him again. Their eyes locked until Luke felt another blush warm his face. He looked away hastily.

"Do you always do that?"

He looked back up timidly, and watched Noah's thin, soft looking lips quirk in another smile.

"Do what?" he asked.

Luke huffed, and leaned forward. "Stare at people until they feel uncomfortable?"

Noah let out a chuckle. "Not really. Why, do you feel uncomfortable?"

Luke squinted and crossed his arms. "I didn't say _that_…"

"But it was implied," Noah said, a small grin on his face. "Don't worry; I'll stop." He looked away now, focusing his gaze straight ahead again.

While he did, Luke took in the man's profile; the curve of his nose, the way his Adam's apple bulged out slightly, and then, when the man subconsciously smiled, Luke felt his curiosity building. He didn't _want _to care, especially not about someone so enigmatic and annoying. Caring led to feelings, and those feelings could easily give way to something _more_; something Luke wasn't ready to experience again.

But he couldn't control the question tumbling out of his mouth.

"What are you staring at?"

The man jumped slightly, and turned to face Luke. "Did you say something?"

Luke cleared his throat. "I _said_…what are you staring at?"

Noah sat up, his eyes twinkling again. "I was just thinking…"

Luke looked away, hoping the man would continue without him saying anything.

He did.

"Don't you think it's funny?"

Luke glanced at him before darting his eyes away. "What is?"

"How…you can look at a road, or a street, and be so unsure of where it ends; of where it leads to."

Luke's eyebrows burrowed in confusion, and he turned to the man again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, a road could lead anywhere, couldn't it? It could lead to a desert, a barn, an amusement park, the woods…_anywhere_."

Luke stared at Noah until he turned and their eyes met again. "I never really thought of that…" Luke admitted softly.

The man smiled. "I'm just weird like that, I guess." The smile drifted and Noah looked away again. "But one day…one day I wanna pick a random road and just start walking. Walk and see where I end up; if I end up anywhere at all."

Luke leaned forward. "Well, even if you end up in the middle of nowhere, that's _somewhere_…isn't it?"

The man looked startled again. Slowly, but surely, another smile graced his face. "Yeah…I guess so." He looked down, the smile still on his face.

And Luke could only hold his breath.

He was starting to care.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Once, when Noah was fourteen, he'd been walking around the mall, aimlessly window-shopping. In the window of one of the stores, he'd spotted the most stunning, gleaming, digital camera he'd ever seen. He'd gone inside and touched it; felt the shudder and the screen, and decided that he'd never wanted anything so badly.

He went rushing home, and made the mistake of telling his father. His father had simply given a grunt before returning his attention to the newspaper in his hands. Noah had felt crushed, and accepted the grunt as a no.

A few months ago, Noah returned to the very same mall, and bought a camera almost identical to the one he'd seen so many years ago.

He bought it against his father's wishes, and to prove to himself that he wouldn't let fear hold him back anymore. He'd take advantage of all the opportunities life threw at him, and go after his dreams…no matter the consequence.

Even now, there were things he still wanted to do.

And he knew _just _who he wanted to do them with.

***********************************************************************************************************************

They'd been sitting in silence again, watching the snow slowly begin to pile up in clumps. Luke had to admit; he didn't mind the man's company. When the man was talking, or even just sitting, Luke found it hard to concentrate on anything else. He found himself watching the man's lips move as he spoke, unintentionally noting how easy it seemed to make him smile or laugh. It kept Luke from thinking about other things…things he _couldn't_ think about.

And he hated to admit it, but Noah was almost…_fun_ to be around. Even just sitting and saying nothing, Luke felt a sense of comfort in the air between them. And as much as he wanted to dislike him, Noah made it near impossible with every word he spoke and every action he made.

Finally, after sitting in silence for a few minutes, Noah stood up and stretched.

Luke watched him, the way his jacket rose and revealed a bit of skin, and the way his jeans hugged his skin in all the right ways.

All the right ways that drove Luke crazy.

Noah turned to Luke, his hands stuffed in his pockets and another smile on his face. "Do you know what time it is?"

Luke's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and he checked his cell phone. "It's a little after eight," he said.

Noah's face lit up. "Then do you wanna do something?"

Luke's heart skipped a beat. "Wait…right now?"

"Yeah. It's a few hours until the ball drops, and we should at least spend it doing something exciting, right?"

"I guess, but…" Luke gulped heavily. "The two of us…together…alone?"

Noah raised an eyebrow. "What, are you afraid of me, Luke?"

He swallowed again, struck by how hard it was. _Not in the way you think._

"I didn't say _that_…" he looked down, another blush heating his face.

"Then let's go," Noah said softly. Luke looked back up and met Noah's strong gaze. For a moment, they sat staring at each other, neither of them moving. There were so many questions stuck on Luke's tongue: _"What are you thinking right now?" "Why do your eyes sparkle so much?" "Why didn't I make you leave earlier?" "What are you up to?" _and_ "Why me?"_

He swallowed them down and said the only thing that made sense.

"Fine."

***********************************************************************************************************************

When they arrived at the rink, the area was already slightly crowded. People were arriving, people were leaving, and some people were merely mingling. The ones in the rink were screaming and laughing as they collided into and over each other. Noah let out a soft laugh as someone slipped and fell, creating a domino effect of falling with the people around him.

He wanted to be one of them.

He turned to Luke, who was watching everyone with a slight smile. "So…Wollman Rink is your idea of _something exciting_?"

Noah let out a laugh. "Is this not what you had in mind?"

"Well…no. I was thinking along the lines of jumping off the top of the Empire State Building and onto a trampoline…or something like that." Luke's lips quirked in a half-smile, and Noah's heart thumped in his chest.

"Sorry to disappoint you…" he said quietly.

"Don't worry," Luke said. "On the excitement scale, this is definitely second place."

Noah's smile reappeared and, for a beat, the two stood staring at each other. Noah watched the way Luke's long lashes floated down whenever he blinked; the way the bright lights from the looming towers and lamps set a halo of light around Luke.

And under the bright lights, he could finally see that Luke's eyes were brown; a beautiful, chocolate brown.

***********************************************************************************************************************

_D'amn it… _Luke thought. The area wasn't too crowded, but it was far from empty as well. The tall buildings impended over the rink, illuminating the area with their beaming lights. The lights themselves set an array of light around Noah; a light that seemed so much like a halo.

And under the lights, the one thing Luke could focus on was Noah's eyes. He could finally see that those twinkling, star-like assets were a blue; a beautiful, blinding blue.

And d'amn it if Luke's heart wasn't hurting so bad. D'amn it even more that it was so difficult to say _no_ to this man. Why was he here? Why wasn't he still on the bench, regretting everything he was? Why was he letting himself get pulled into this man's pace?

Despite all his questions and thoughts, he didn't want to go back there, where his notebook laid broken and ripped in the trash. He wanted to stay _here_, where cold, hard ice and a gorgeous man awaited him.

With a gulp, he took a step forward. "Come on. We didn't come here to stand around, did we?"

He turned back to look at Noah, and saw that Noah looked almost sad.

"No…I guess we didn't."

* * *

The first thing Noah realized when he got on the ice…was that he was terrible. He could barely stand for five seconds without his angles wanting to cave in on him. His arms were constantly swinging, trying to regain some balance, and people chuckled as they skated past him.

Luke was skating ahead of him, evidently trying not to laugh. Noah could have felt frustrated, but he wasn't. Skating behind him, he was free to watch Luke; the way his hair blew with the wind, and the graceful yet masculine way he skid across the ice.

It was admirable.

Finally, after minutes of embarrassing himself, Luke looked back at Noah, and took pity on him, He skated back just as Noah was about to fall, and grabbed Noah's waist and arm, and then straightened him slowly. The touch sent fire soaring through Noah's body.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked softly.

Noah struggled to find his voice. "…Yeah, I'm fine, just…I'm not very good at this."

Luke half-smiled as his hands nearly burned through Noah's jacket and skin. "Here. I'll help you, okay?"

Noah nodded wordlessly. Luke moved in front of him and took Noah's hands in his. For a split second, shock registered in his face. It quickly melted away into content.

"Alright, I'm gonna skate backwards, and you're gonna hold on to my hands, okay?"

Their eyes met again, locking tightly. "Gotcha…" Noah said inaudibly.

They began moving together, slowly and one step at a time. At first, it was slightly messy, but once a rhythm was found, Noah began gliding rather than just walking. After a while, they were moving a little more quickly. Shortly after that, Noah was holding only one of Luke's hands, and they were moving faster than Noah ever imagined.

Finally, Luke let go and floated slightly away, letting Noah fend for himself. Noah slid more easily now, and his arms weren't flailing nearly as much anymore. He skated around couples and laughing young children, keeping his eyes on Luke the entire time—which wasn't the best idea, as he tripped over his skates and went crashing onto the ice.

"Noah!" Luke shouted.

Noah sat up, his butt and knees stinging. He knew instantly that there would be bruises the next day.

Luke finally arrived, his eyes wide and his face flushed. He leaned down, gently touched Noah's arm. "Are you okay?"

Noah turned, and suddenly Luke's face was right there, inches away. His mouth dropped open, and for a while, he struggled to find the words. "I-I fell," he finally said.

Luke's eyes widened, and a grin slowly broke across his face. And then, he was laughing, loud and unreservedly. People stopped what they were doing; some stared, and some gave the two of them looks. But soon Noah was laughing along with Luke, and no one else really mattered. They laughed until their stomachs hurt, their eyes were tearing, and their throats were sore.

When they finally stopped, their faces were still inches apart, and Luke's hand was still on Noah's arm.

Noah gulped, felt his heart rise into his throat. Around him, he could hear skates skidding against the ice, and people chattering. But this close to Luke, he swore he could hear the man's heart beating in rhythm with his own. He wanted to believe that Luke was feeling everything _he _was feeling; that all the turmoil that Noah was suffering from, Luke was trying to control too.

He hoped with all his heart that Luke simply felt the same way. And as Luke got even closer, and his hand rose up Noah's arm, Noah could feel heat radiating from Luke. Especially when his lips were _right there_ and his warm breath was tickling Noah's mouth. Noah closed his eyes and slightly raised his head, waiting for Luke to make the move and press their lips together.

It didn't happen.

Suddenly, the heat was gone, and Noah felt cold. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Luke was standing and his hand was outstretched. He averted his eyes, staring at the ice, and cleared his throat.

"Um…we should probably go."

Noah's heart dropped right down to his stomach.

***********************************************************************************************************************

The first time Luke fell in love, it was with a straight teen that shunned Luke and then proceeded to ignore Luke for the rest of high school. The second time, it had been with a man who wasn't out yet. The relationship was built on lies and secret moments, and eventually Luke gave up on it; moved on. The third time, Luke had been cheated on countless time. And he'd given up on that relationship too.

Earlier that night, Luke had been struck by how unlucky he was when it came to picking men. It never seemed like Luke could win.

But right now, with the snow falling, the sense of the New Year in the air, and Noah walking beside him, Luke could only wonder if his luck was changing.

They hadn't spoken since the _almost kiss_, and to be honest, things had been awkward. They'd left the rink and began walking aimlessly around the city, occasionally getting blinded by the bright lights around them. Luke had _almost _told Noah to leave; it had been on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't do it; he didn't _want _to. Back at the ice rink, everything else had melted away until all that was left was Luke and Noah. And Noah's lips had been _right there_, soft and waiting. All Luke had to do was lean down. It had been obvious that Noah had _wanted _him to; he'd closed his eyes, moved even closer to Luke, and then there was just that aura that was vibrating from him. And despite the fact that Luke had always been impulsive, led directly by his emotions and beliefs, he controlled himself and pulled away; away from Noah's lips, and away from the inevitable kiss.

But God, had Luke wanted to. He had really, _really_ wanted to.

But he couldn't. With every passing second, his feelings grew stronger. And it was far too soon for that; for these feelings.

_Now_, he gave a side-glance at Noah, and noticed that the tall man was slightly limping.

Luke stopped walking and grabbed Noah's arm unthinkingly. "You're limping. Are you _sure _you're alright?"

Noah's eyes darted away, and for the first time, Luke watched a blush wash over Noah's cheeks. "I'm fine, Luke. Really…maybe a little sore, but I'll be fine."

"…If you say so." Luke slowly let go of Noah's arm. "But we could take a break, if you want."

Noah finally looked at him, his eyes wide with shock. A small smile broke on his face. "We don't have to, Luke, really. I'm fine…"

"Then we'll walk slower," Luke compromised. He reached into his pocket and checked his phone. "It's ten…so we still have two hours until the ball drops. What do you wanna do?"

Noah looked shocked again. "I already picked, Luke. I'll do whatever _you_ wanna do."

Luke tried to control the rapid beating of his heart, to no avail. He swallowed thickly. "Then…we'd better get moving."

They did, walking as slow as they possibly could. There were people who zoomed past them and others who accidentally bumped into them. Their pace wasn't broken, either way. And on the way to 62 Fifth Avenue Street, they had to stop for directions at least three times. On the way, they shyly began talking about their interests; Noah mentioned his filmmaking, and Luke spoke about his writing. When the ice and awkwardness from earlier was finally broken, they began exchanging stories. Luke told Noah about the time his best friend walked into the girl's bathroom in broad daylight, and Noah told Luke about the time he broke his ankle by tripping over his feet.

By the time they got there, Noah's face was flushed from laughter, and Luke's chest was aching more than ever. He felt like one of a character in one of those cheesy love movies; the type who believed in love at first sight, and spent his life inside his own head. And damn it, if Luke didn't want this night to last more than two hours. Damn it if his thoughts of heartache were nearly distinguished. And damn it if he didn't mind moving on, with Noah.

Because he really didn't.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Noah wanted to tell him.

The thought struck him as they neared the corner of 62 Fifth Avenue Street. Usually, people could tell _through his eyes_ that something wasn't quite right with him. And then, when he took his hat off, their faces would grow heavy with fake sorrow, the words _I'm sorry_ would be uttered. Noah got so tired of it, so tired of them saying sorry without _really_ knowing what he was going through; without understanding any of it. It had gotten to the point that Noah didn't even try to hide it anymore; he said the words with a slight smile on his face, and then watched as everyone else's face dropped.

The facade was exhausting.

But tonight, from the moment Noah had met Luke, he'd been a stranger whose secret didn't make up _who_ he was. He'd seen Luke staring at him carefully, but he hadn't said anything yet; hadn't asked why Noah's hat was so snug. He didn't even ask about Noah's bracelet, despite seeing it several times that night. Over the past hour, they'd talked about so much, from their friends and family, to their favorite movies. And Noah had to admit that he was falling, hard and fast.

And though it would normally scare him, tonight he could only hope to fall even faster.

***********************************************************************************************************************  
It was closed.

Luke let out an angry groan. "D'amn it, I forgot they closed at four." He turned to Noah, who was staring at him amusedly. "Sorry, Noah."

The Forbes Galleries was one of his favorite attractions in New York City. To others, it was an antique museum, with little collectibles that really weren't that interesting. But Luke loved staring at the toy soldiers and plaque trophies. He especially loved going through all the different galleries; pictures, photographs, and jewelry all framed the walls. And he'd wanted so much to share the place with Noah.

"Sorry," he apologized again.

Noah chuckled. "It's alright, Luke."

Luke checked his phone again. "Well, it's almost eleven now, anyway. Do you maybe wanna…?"

"Go and see the ball drop?" Noah asked.

Luke nodded, and the two fell into step together. "There's one thing we still haven't talked about…" Luke said softly.

"And what's that?"

"Why we're here."

Noah stopped walking and looked at the ground, his face suddenly appearing tired. "Are you sure you wanna talk about that?" He began walking again, and walked past Luke.

Luke grabbed Noah's arm and pulled him back. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, we've pretty much talked about everything _but_ that, haven't we?"

Noah's eyes were wide again, and Luke saw him visibly gulp. "You first…" he said with a hoarse voice.

Luke let go of Noah's arm, and they began walking again. "I…a month ago…I got in a really bad fight…with my boyfriend. He cheated on me…_again, _and I just couldn't stand it. So a week ago, I decided that I wanted—no, needed—to get away. So I came here. I couldn't work at home; I couldn't concentrate on anything, except how much I missed _him._" He looked at Noah out of the corner of his eye. "If I'm being honest…I've hardly thought about him tonight." He looked back at the ground, felt his face grow warmer.

"Then I'm happy," Noah said quietly. "If I helped you forget something unpleasant, then…I'm happy."

They walked in silence for a beat. "Then…why are _you_ here?"

Noah inhaled deeply, and then slowly exhaled. "I…"

"…You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Noah."

"No, it's fine. I _want_ to tell you." He breathed deeply again. "A month ago…I…I had chemotherapy back at home. And I'm in remission now."

Luke stopped walking, and he could swear his heart stopped beating. Noah stopped too, and turned to face Luke. Around them, everyone else kept moving, giving loud grunts of annoyance. They didn't matter though, especially right now.

"What…?" Luke whispered.

Noah took a step towards him, and raised his jacket sleeve, revealing his orange bracelet. "Do you know what color orange represents?"

Luke gulped, and suddenly the world seemed to be spinning. "Leukemia, right?"

Noah nodded, and when Luke met his gaze, he could only see that Noah's eyes were still twinkling. They stood staring at each other, and Luke desperately wanted to know _how_ and _why _and_for how long_? He didn't know where to begin, and the words _I'm sorry_ didn't seem nearly strong enough, or even right. Noah didn't seem sorry at all; he seemed as though he'd accepted it long ago, and learned how to live with it. His twinkling eyes seemed to say that he'd become stronger _because_ of it.

He wanted Noah's strength.

Without thinking, he grabbed Noah's hands and squeezed tightly. "We should get going. It's probably already really crowded." He started moving, Noah trailing slightly behind him, and his hand squeezing Noah's tightly.

After a while, he felt Noah squeeze back.

* * *

They took a taxi to Time's Square, and by the time they got there, it was so crowded that Noah could barely make out the ball ahead. They stood behind the crowd, and Luke checked his cell phone.

"The traffic made us late…there's only a couple of minutes left."

He turned to Noah, and grabbed his hand again. "Is this alright?"

Noah's heart beat its way against his chest. "Yeah…" he whispered. Luke squeezed even tighter, and Noah almost felt like he was flying.

"Luke…" he whispered.

Somehow, over the cheering of the crowd, and the excitement that surrounded them, Luke heard Noah and turned towards him.

The night went through Noah's head; seeing Luke and getting mystified by him; Luke, holding his waist so that he wouldn't fall, and then the two of them laughing when Noah _did_ fall. Luke, staring at him with his lips _right there_ and his breath warm on Noah's face; Luke's face when Noah told him the truth, and then, Luke holding his hand tightly, like he was right now. Everything revolved around Luke. And as the ball began getting closer to the bottom, and people began counting down from thirty, Noah found himself getting pulled even more into Luke's gravity.

He gulped, and felt Luke's hand gently touch his waist; felt himself taking a step towards Luke. Finally, everyone was down to ten, and Luke's lips were _right there_ again.

_Nine, eight, seven, six…_

All Luke had to do know was press forward, and their lips would touch. Noah could only hope that Luke wouldn't pull away again.

_Five, four, three, two, one…_

Whistles were made, people were howling, and Noah was sure there were fireworks in the distance. But none of that mattered, as Luke's lips pressed against his own, and he held Noah's waist a little tighter. He pulled Noah closer, and Noah let his hand slide to Luke's neck. Their lips moved slowly at first, and then suddenly, Luke was grasping at parts of Noah, and Noah was pulling away in shock.

"Luke…" he whispered hoarsely. "Luke…"

He pulled Noah back, their lips colliding with force. And Noah let himself be swept away with it.

It was a new year, after all.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

He was addicted to the taste of Noah's lips.

They'd taken a taxi to the closest hotel, and even then, Luke had been unable to stop kissing Noah. This was what he did; he jumped into situations without deliberation and fell easily. But now, he was falling faster than he'd ever fallen before.

He kissed Noah into the door of the car, deeply and with his heart beating faster with every passing second. Noah would gasp and only cling to Luke tightly. And Luke was sure the taxi-driver was ready to drive them into a ditch. But he didn't care about that. And as they went tumbling to the front desk of the hotel, Luke had to struggle to keep his hands away from Noah. They checked in hurriedly, and went racing to their room on the fifth floor. In the elevator, their hands were roaming and Noah was pressed tightly against the wall. When the bell rang, signaling they'd reached their floor, Luke grabbed Noah's hand and the two ran to their door, stumbling inside when the door was finally opened.

Without pretense, Luke pressed Noah against the door and kissed him again; felt their bulges growing and rubbing against each other. Noah let out a loud gasp, and Luke attacked his neck, nibbling on the flesh.

"Wait…Luke," Noah said breathlessly.

Luke pulled away, his heart beating in his ear. "Do you not want it?"

Noah gulped, kissed Luke briefly. "That's not it, I want you…"

"I want you, too, Noah…" they kissed again, and staggered to the bed, throwing their jackets and shoes off, before collapsing on top of the bed. He kissed Noah's cheek, his forehead, and his chest.

"Wait, Luke…" Noah whispered.

Luke looked up at him, his face flushed and his groin aching. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this…"

"What…what do you mean, you can't do this?"

He sat up, and after a beat, Noah joined him too.

Their breathing finally evened out, and Noah continued speaking. "I haven't…I haven't done anything since I found out I—I had cancer. So no one's seen me…"

Luke just stared at Noah, stared at him until the sight of Noah was engraved in his mind. And then, he leaned forward, and touched the hat that was still on Noah's head.

"May I…?" he whispered.

They stared at each other, until finally, Noah nodded.

Luke slipped the hat off, and instantly found that it hadn't made a difference whether it was on or off.

Noah was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************  
Noah felt naked.

Which was just about right, considering all his clothes were off. The lights were off, yet he still felt like anyone could see his body if they looked close enough; the scars, the bruises, the way he was _so much_ thinner then he should've been for being twenty. And then, there was his shaved head, gleaming with the lack of hair.

He truly felt naked, and under Luke's sweeping gaze, he wanted to cry.

And when Luke whispered his name, and asked him again if he wanted this, if he _really_ wanted this, Noah swallowed his fear of being seen, his fear of not knowing what this meant, and he nodded. Luke had whispered that he didn't have a condom, and Noah had shaken his head, saying that it didn't matter.

_He wanted Luke._

He heard Luke inhale deeply, before whispering how beautiful Noah was; his hands gently touched Noah's body, washing over it like a calm wave. And when Luke spread his legs and slowly pressed inside of him, he found himself unable to stop the tears.

No one had ever made love to him so tenderly before.

***********************************************************************************************************************  
More than anything, Luke wanted it to last; past the depths of forever, and into eternity. But with Noah's tightness, the way his legs were wrapped around Luke's waist, and how he clung to Luke's arms, he was finding it near impossible.

Finally the moment came when Noah clamped on him hard, too hard, and Luke felt himself going over the edge, spilling everything he had into Noah's body. He shook until every drop was gone, and then Noah was coming too, onto his stomach and chest.

And Luke wanted to cry out of something that felt strangely like joy.

* * *

It was over.

They'd cleaned up, put their clothes back on, and then sat in silence, an awkward air between them. Reality had caught up with them.

Luke finally cleared his throat and stood up. "I need to go…" he said quietly.

"Wait…what?" Noah asked, baffled.

Luke grabbed his jacket off the floor and hurried to the door.

"Wait…!" Noah shouted.

Luke paused, his back still turned.

"Don't go…" Noah whispered.

Luke slowly turned around, and focused his gaze on Noah, tried to control his irregular breathing. "I'm greedy, Noah," he said with a breaking voice. "Whatever you have to offer, I'll just want more and more of it until I suck you dry of all you are. I'm stubborn, I have bad morning breath, I'm selfish, and I'm extremely hypocritical."

Noah stood up, tried to control the irregular beating of his heart. "So what? I'm usually so _unsure_ of what I want, and I always over-think things. I'm naive and don't take change easily, and…and… and I'm terrified that cancer will be the end of me."

Luke gulped heavily. "It won't be, Noah. You wouldn't _let _it be."

They stood staring at each other, before Luke spoke again.

"I was just in a bad relationship, Noah…"

"And I haven't been in a relationship for years. Isn't it the same kind of fear?"

Noah took a step closer to Luke, watched as Luke's grip on the doorknob loosened.

"If you leave now, do you know what road you'll take back home, wherever home is?"

Luke's eyes widened, along with his heart. "I'll…I'll pick a random road. Whatever road I see first. And then I'll start walking. Hopefully—"

"—you'll end up _somewhere_?" Noah finished.

"_Everywhere's_ somewhere…" Luke said softly.

Noah was finally close enough to touch him, and he did, resting his head against the crook of Luke's neck.

"Please don't go…I know you're afraid of what this means…but so am I."

"I know you are…" Luke whispered.

They stood holding each other, until Luke's jacket fell from his grip, his breathing calmed down just a little bit, and his arms wrapped tightly around Noah.

"What do you think is at the end of that road?" he asked.

Noah smiled, his blue eyes twinkling once again, and he felt his heart beat a little slower, calmer. "I don't really know…and I don't want to."

"Good…neither do I."

They smiled at each other, both of their hearts heavy with fear and something that, while felt so far away from perfection, felt so close to happiness. And as their hands clasped, the rhythm of their heartbeats matched at last, and their thoughts stuck on, not where the road ended, but where it began. Because for them, it began with a notebook, twinkling blue eyes, and gloved hands that exchanged warmth into naked ones.

And the road would continue.


End file.
